


Screen

by Kass



Series: Stargate Atlantis fanworks [18]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Time, M/M, McKay & Mrs. Miller, Voyeurism, ep-related, kink_bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-26
Updated: 2009-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-02 10:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kass/pseuds/Kass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ordinary curiosity makes him look.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screen

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kink Bingo; the prompt was "voyeurism." Thanks to Sihaya Black for beta! This is set during and after "McKay &amp; Mrs. Miller."

Ordinary curiosity makes him look.

Okay, no, if Rodney's being honest with himself, it's more than that. It's mild suspicion. It's the fact that Rod creeps him out. There's something...freaky about having his doppelganger roaming at will around Atlantis. Charming the pants off of Rodney's family and friends.

Though he doesn't expect that to be literal. Until he checks the citywide life-forms detector, which he's keyed to his own genetic signature. The lifeform matching his DNA who isn't in Rodney's own quarters is apparently in John's quarters, with one other blinking dot who must be John. What's Rod doing there?

Rodney checks later that afternoon and Rod is there again. And again.

That's when he figures out how to rig the impromptu security feed. If Rod's up to anything, they need to know.

* * *

What he doesn't expect to see: the two of them sitting and talking, laughing a little. As if they were old friends already. The feed doesn't have audio, but the ease with which John and Rod are sitting together in John's quarters makes something twist in Rodney's gut.

And then Rod stands up, obviously preparing to go, and John stands too. They say some things that Rodney can't hear. And then, next thing Rodney knows, Rod has insinuated himself into John's space and they're kissing.

It's horrifying. It's spectacular. Rodney can hardly breathe, all of a sudden, watching this. The intensity of it. The way John's hands slide into Rod's hair and hold him steady. Their hips locking together.

And then Rod pulls away, gives John a ridiculously smug smile, and slides down to kneel at John's feet, tugging open John's BDUs and nuzzling at his cock.

John's eyes flutter closed. His hands settle on Rod's head, stroking gently. Rod's body is blocking anything actually pornographic, but the way they're moving leaves nothing to the imagination. John's thrusting into Rod's mouth now, he can't help himself, his own mouth has fallen open a little. Maybe he's making little sounds, just for Rod's ears.

It's like watching really good porn. If there were porn featuring himself giving a blowjob to John Sheppard. Rodney clutches at the base of his own aching dick and can't resist thrusting up a little into his own hand.

John's thrusts get jerkier. When he comes, Rodney does too, and then snaps his laptop shut as though the images had burned his eyes.

* * *

By midnight it occurs to him that this security footage -- which now exists in Atlantis' database, even if theoretically only Rodney can access it -- could cost John his job. Rodney hacks back into the security system and erases the file, erases the record of the file, erases the fact that he's even erased anything.

But he doesn't erase the version that downloaded to his tablet. He locks it down under every encryption he knows and he leaves it there. He doesn't really want to examine why.

By morning, the matter bridge is FUBAR. The day disappears in a flurry of anxious stop-gap measures, culminating in sending Rod back to his own spacetime and draining their ZPM in the process. When Rodney returns to his quarters after telling Jeannie goodbye, he's feeling pretty low, and the sudden memory of how he spied on John's assignation with Rod makes him feel even worse. He wonders whether Rod made it back or not. Odds are, they'll never know.

It's only a few days before he pulls the video up again. Watching his body double touch John, kiss John, kneel at John's feet makes him both aroused and miserable. Aroused because who is he kidding, John is plenty hot, and if he squints he can imagine that this is a video of Rodney himself doing what he now can't help yearning to do. Miserable because he never realized John might be open to something like this, and now that he knows, what he knows is that John was interested in Rod. He and Rodney may be genetically identical, but they aren't anything alike.

Rodney jerks off desperately, both hands down his pants, gaze fixed on the screen, and then puts himself to bed.

* * *

Days go by. Rodney falls into the habit of watching the video every few nights. At this point, just opening the file -- watching the opening seconds of Rod and John talking and laughing -- is enough to make Rodney eager and hard. Pathetic, but it's working for him, so he doesn't question it. Much.

And then comes the night when John invites himself over to watch episodes of classic Trek on Rodney's laptop. One episode ends, Rodney gets up to go to the bathroom, John reaches for the laptop to pull up the next one.

The toilet flushes and Rodney exits the bathroom, wondering why he hasn't heard the sound of the next episode starting up. John's sitting with Rodney's laptop on his knees, staring intently at the screen.

"What're you--" Rodney begins to ask, and John looks up at him, and his deer-in-the-headlights expression makes Rodney realize what John has been viewing. Rodney was watching it again last night and he forgot to lock it back down. John was browsing the video library and saw a filename he didn't recognize...

"Oh God," Rodney says inanely, and snatches the laptop back from John and snaps it shut, fast. His stomach goes into freefall. All he can think is _idiot idiot idiot you've ruined everything._

John still doesn't say anything. He looks gobsmacked.

"I'm sorry," Rodney says. It's not enough but he doesn't know where else to start.

"There's a security camera in my quarters?" John's voice is surprisingly level. If the tables were turned, Rodney thinks, he'd be in histrionics by now.

"No, no -- I keyed the city's lifeforms detector to Rod's genetic code," Rodney hastens to explain. "I told the city to keep an eye on him, and that's when I figured out how to implement a temporary security feed."

"Why?" It's a simple question, but it feels loaded. What is John thinking? His face isn't giving anything away.

"I didn't trust him, I thought he might be up to something," Rodney says. "And then when I saw he was hanging around with you all the time, I got...jealous." Rodney feels his face heating up but he ignores it.

"Tell me this video doesn't exist anywhere else." There's steel beneath John's voice.

"Of course not! What kind of idiot do you think I am?" The kind who keeps pornographic videos of his best friend on his laptop, Rodney thinks, and the knot of despair in the pit of his stomach grows. "Fuck. John. I'm sorry. It's an invasion of your privacy, I should have deleted it as soon as I realized what was happening--"

"Why didn't you?"

Rodney swallows hard. The moment of truth. If John doesn't hate him already, it's a minor miracle, but there's no way for him to answer this question without looking worse. But it seems only fair. Recompense.

"I wanted--" Rodney begins, then stops. That's not the way to say this. "You have to understand--" No, that's not going to work either. He can't meet John's eyes when he finally manages to say, "He got something I'm never... I couldn't stand to erase it."

"You watch this video," John says, and it's not a question.

Rodney closes his eyes. "I'm sorry," he says again. He doesn't know what else to say.

"More than once?" John asks.

Rodney barks out a laugh. "More times than I can count." He opens his eyes and thrusts the laptop at John. "Here: you delete it." It won't make the invasion of privacy go away, but at least it will destroy the evidence. Besides, it's not as though Rodney's ever going to forget it.

But John just sets the laptop down on the desk.

"Rod was lonely," John says. "He and the Sheppard in his universe--" He waves a hand. "They're...together."

"Really?" Rodney's startled. He hadn't expected that.

"I told him we weren't like that, but I was happy to hang out with him..." John gives a little shrug.

"You don't have to explain," Rodney says, feeling an unhappy curl of discomfort. Rodney's the one who should be trying to explain himself, not John.

"It never occurred to me--"

"It's fine, I get it," Rodney interrupts. "Just because you were interested in him, doesn't mean you're interested in me. We're nothing alike. Please: I've thought this through. I'm not going to make a pass at you, so can we just...let this go?" It's an unfair thing to ask, but he asks it anyway.

John gives him an exasperated look, stands up, and yanks Rodney to his feet. And before Rodney has the chance to wonder what exactly is going on, John's kissing him.

There's anger in the kiss, and hunger. And Rodney's brain short-circuits and all he can do is kiss John back.

* * *

John does make noise while Rodney is sucking his dick. He gasps and he stutters little broken moans that make Rodney feel like a porn star. John's lying on his back on Rodney's bed and Rodney can't get enough of his skin, the line of hair arrowing down from his belly, his thighs.

"Get up here," John bites out, and Rodney complies. John's hand goes unerringly to Rodney's cock and now it's Rodney's turn to moan, startled by how good John's grip feels. He barely remembers the last time someone else touched him.

Their bodies slot together and John thrusts up, which sparks all kinds of delicious impulses along every nerve in Rodney's body. They're kissing and rubbing against each other like teenagers.

John breaks the kiss and Rodney gasps a ragged breath. He's close. He braces himself on his arms to give them both a little breathing room, which gives John space to work his hand between their bodies again, stroking Rodney just hard enough.

"You idiot," John rasps just beside his ear. "I didn't want Rod. I wanted you."

Maybe it's hearing those words. Maybe it's the callused grip of John's hand on his dick. Either way, Rodney's over the edge, coming hard.

Rodney lets his head fall, pressing his forehead against John's for a long moment, then squirms down John's body. John's hands make tight fists in the blanket and the sight of his hard cock makes Rodney's mouth water. John, it turns out, is pretty close to coming; all it takes is a second or two of Rodney's attention and John's body tenses, shuddering, his cock jerking in Rodney's mouth.

* * *

Rodney gets up to pee sometime in the middle of the night. John's gone back to his room -- there's no way two can sleep on one of these stupid beds, plus John can't afford to be seen coming out of Rodney's quarters first thing in the morning -- but Rodney's room feels different now. Less solitary. Now it's not just his quarters, it's the place where he and John...

The bathroom light reveals a hickey on Rodney's neck. Ridiculous but also kind of exciting. Ronon's going to ask about that tomorrow in the locker room. Rodney wonders what he'll say, and whether John will be able to act nonchalant. Probably. John's cool like that. If their positions were reversed, Rodney's pretty sure he'd give the game away in a heartbeat. Not that Ronon or Teyla would rat John out, but still.

When Rodney returns to bed, he picks up the laptop and deletes the video. And then he sends an email.

> from: rmckay@lantis.gov  
> to: jshep@lantis.gov  
> re: videos
> 
> Seems I accidentally deleted the video we were watching earlier. Have searched my HD but it's gone without a trace. Sorry. More Trek tonight?
> 
> \- RM

Within ten minutes, the reply comes in:

> from: jshep@lantis.gov  
> to: rmckay@lantis.gov  
> re: re: videos
> 
> You'll have to find some way to make it up to me. More Trek seems like a reasonable start. See you at 9.
> 
> \- JS

Rodney's still grinning when he falls asleep.


End file.
